Page 43 of Traitor

And I tell myself she deserves it. That she made her choices. That she lied to me, deceived me, made me believe she was mine while keeping secrets that could have destroyed my club.

She might not deserve this. But I sure as hell didn't deserve to be deceived by her, either.

I turn on my heel, forcing my feet to move, forcing my chest to unclench, forcing my fucking heart to harden.

She won't know I was here. She won't know that I care. That I still love her.Because I don't. I can't. I fucking can’t.

And yet, as I step back into the darkened hallway, leaving her behind, I already know it's a lie.

I never stopped loving her. And that's the problem. Love doesn’t die in a second. It doesn’t die with a word. With a touch. It lingers, hopeful and painful. It whispers lies that paint an illusion. I need to kill it for good if I want to survive it.

With my heart in knots, I go back to my office at the clubhouse. Not five minutes later, the door opens.

9. Ghost

Bones

Ghost saunters into my office like he's on a stroll at the beach. No knocking. No hesitation. Like he didn't vanish for days, forcing me to send Tank after him.

I don't look up right away. Just swirl the whiskey in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light.

"Ever heard of knocking, fucker?" I mutter, the sound rough.

He doesn't waste time. He never does. His words cut through the silence like a sword made of ice.

"You know, it's funny." His voice is calm, almost conversational, but I don't miss the edge beneath it. "I was the one who spent five years locked up because a woman lied about me. I was the one who lost everything because of the betrayal of a woman I loved. And yet, you were the one who lost your fucking mind the second you heard something about Ely. Didn't even wait. Didn't think. Just snapped."

My grip tightens around the glass, the tension coiling in my chest like a snake’s embrace. I don't want to have this conversation.

So I don't answer.

Ghost tilts his head, studying me. Picking me apart like he always fucking does. "That why you didn't call me down to the basement when you interrogated her?"

The question makes something ugly claw up my throat. I take another drink to kill it. "You weren't here." My voice is flat. Cold. I need it to be.

He shoots me a look of disbelief. "You know that's bullshit. You could've waited. I was on my way back. I got here just when you were parading her back to the basement after that whole tattoo fiasco. Hell, I told you myself the info I got was just the first layer, that I'd need more time to dig." His voice hardens. "But you didn't give a fuck about that, did you?"

My jaw locks.

"You're supposed to be our goddamn President, but you acted like a kid throwing a tantrum. What happened to thinking first, Kane?"

The way he says my name, the name only a handful of people know, makes my blood fucking boil. The anger comes easy. The doubt? That's the part that won't stop clawing at me.

I slam the glass down so hard I'm surprised it doesn't shatter. "Watch your fucking mouth," I growl. "I should've waited for what, exactly? Waited for her to slit my throat while I was sleeping next to her? For her to pass off intel on the Romano deal? Maybe I should've given her the chance to burn our whole fucking club to the ground, huh? Or should I have let another one of my brothers take the fall, like you did, for trusting the wrong fucking woman? Maybe I should've spared Tisha, too?"

Ghost doesn't even flinch. He never fucking does.

"That why you branded her, Bones?" He speaks quieter now, but that makes it worse. More lethal. "Because you thought she was the next Adora? That what you're telling yourself to sleep at night?"

My heart fucking lurches. The comparison makes me sick.

"I won't argue about Tisha," he says, voice steady. "She was a problem waiting to happen. But do you really, honestly believe that about Ely?"

I scoff. "She lied."

His tone softens, just slightly, but it hits harder than if he'd yelled at me. "Did she? I'm the one who had to do time because of Adora, but it seems you were left with more scars than me. Any therapist would have a field day with you. You need to fucking fix yourself."

I press my fingers against my temples, a dull ache forming at the back of my skull. "Dom... you're not the same man you were before prison. Adora took my brother, my best friend, from me, from us, and you never truly came back. I'm never giving anyone the chance to hurt you, me, or any of our brothers ever again. I don't get it. You didn't even talk to Ely twice during all the months she was here. Why the fuck are you defending her now?"

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